In the Cold and Bitter Winter by Jonathan Sion (i read a book txt) 📕

as a redwood tree.
It signaled his arrival
And his departure,
At every emergency.
He traveled floating on the seat
Of an automatic police car,
Instead of walking the beat.
And the siren said it all:
“You’re in trouble and I’m a cop, mean, tough and tall.”

This is what he felt.
The siren made him free,
From the horrible reality,
That he was really only 5 foot three.

When he had consulted Doctor Dodd,
All he had done,
Was charge him $90 and say:
“It is The Will of Almighty God.
Be comforted my son,
One of my patients is only 5 foot one.”

So, this is Pennsylvania,
On a snowy day.
My dog went out to play.
And a police officer from down town,
Had a nervous breakdown.

It’s not surprising to me.
It is the Will of God, you see.
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Bi-Polar Man

Like the Earth,
I am bi-polar.
Like the Earth,
I go from extreme cold
To extreme cold.
Not like bi-polar men,
Who go from hot to cold
And back again.


Who coined the term ‘bi-polar?’
I’ll never know.
Probably some scientific Joe
In America ~
At the Mexican border
Who’d never heard of
‘Manic-depressive disorder.’

In England,
That is what we have you see:
‘Manic-depression.’
It is as plain as can be.
But in America,
It is ‘bi-polar.’
Somehow,
It just sounds cooler.

‘I’m bi-polar,’
Some proudly say,
Sipping Coca-Cola
And forgetting that,
The Poles are where
The ice is at.

It might be better
If they just said: ‘Hi!
By the way, I’m bi-’
Tho', if I come
To think of it,
That may not be such a hit,
With some Americans.

It might be more impressive,
If you’re manic depressive,
Simply to say:
‘Lovely to see you!

NOW GO AWAY!’
-------------------------------

A Time for Everything

Why is my soul tinged with sadness?
Might as well ask why an autumn leaf,
All red and gold, is flecked by fungus
Or by mold.

It lies curling pretty
On the lawn -
But come the dawn
Is blown away,
Leaving a space where it lay.

Bodies and leaves fall and decay,
But each in its own special way,
Give color and beauty to the day.

Old men die
Leaving fallow ground,
Muddy fields; solid frozen sound
Of young feet tripping along
Crushing ice underfoot
In a field once so warm.
It does no harm
For all to know
Spring fields follow fallow,
And crops shall grow.

Each hath its season,
Each and together -
Meaning and reason.
So why do I cling to sadness so?

I don’t know.

But I suspect and speculate,
My human condition is getting late
And with it goes
Like winter snows,
Sadness –
As time overgrows
The life I once called ‘mine’.

Shall I love it still?
As I fall – slowly – slowly
Down the hill?
‘Yes,’ says Compassion, Love and Reason
‘Tis just the passing season.
What lives, needs must die.
It is written
In the sky.’

Could the season be replaced,
By warmth and cheer?
By a hearty blaze and a mug of beer?

‘Why not?’ saith Love,
‘But not ‘replaced’ –
Just, for a time, effaced.
‘In the end,’ says she,
‘We all have to go.
Life melts,
Just like springtime snow.’

‘So what?’ say I, ‘is the meaning of it all?
- These experiences?
Just to live, love, die and fall?’

‘Ah’ say Love and Reason, both together,
‘It’s always different weather –
But come with us and we will show you.’
So they lead me to a pasture full of living things:
A blackbird sits preening its wings.
‘See’ says Love, ‘does it ask ‘why’?
Or does it live?’
‘It lives,’ say I, but quickly add:
‘Only to die.’
‘Does it know that?’ asks Reason,
‘No,’ I say.
‘But that is a blackbird’s way.
I am a man and I know
Where I am to go,
And I’m sad.’

‘Come on lad!’
Say Reason and Love,
‘What you think you know
Is not so!
We shall lead you to other lands.’
Now take our hands’ -
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And so, I go,
Thankfully so.
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In the Cold and Bitter Winter – Compilation

All poems in this collection Copyright © 2009 by Jonathan M. Sion.
All rights reserved.

2,500 words, 26 pg.
Courier New 12 pt.
1” margins double-spacing

Imprint

Publication Date: 12-31-2009

All Rights Reserved